My hands are beginning
to remind me of Mom’s-
Her hands remind me
of Grandma’s
Skin grows thinner
Simple bruises turn
unreasonably large and
take longer to heal
But wear and tear is
proof of living life
to its fullest, right?
And our hands serve as
an extension of our hearts
When my fists unclench
Anger is easily released
When my hand lingers,
gently holding yours,
hurts quickly disappear
An excess of love
and kindness
graciously offered
as precious proof
A beautiful paradox-
Strength in weakness
Piano Girl 
Wonderfully written. So beautiful and the flow of the words is wonderful. Great work!
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I really appreciate that! This one was a little slow to finish. 😊
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I love this, Kelley. Reminds me of something I wrote years ago about my grandmother’s hands. I glanced at the back of my hands one day and saw hers. Those moments feel like deep connections. 💜
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Thank you, Carrie. Precious moments. 🩷
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I like this one. I can relate. These things happen to me now. Those simple bruises …. ‘wear and tear is proof of living …..’ and the holding of loving hand’; have bookmarked this one 🙂 thanks Kelley 🙂
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Thanks, John. 😊 That makes my day. 💛
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you feel: hey, it’s not just you —
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Nice, Kelly. ❤️
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Thank you, Mary. 😊
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